


Nightmare

by Pollydoodles



Series: The Pizza Dog Chronicles [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bucky? What are you- what are you doing?” Darcy said sleepily, eyes only half focusing on the figure lurking in the shadows of her bedroom. The moonlight glinted off his metal arm, exposed by his sleeveless shirt. His dark hair hung around his face but she could still see the blue of his eyes and they gazed at her silently. </p><p>“Buck?” She said, hoping that whatever he wanted could be resolved without her having to wake up properly. She was still half asleep, limbs still relaxed and floppy, and she wanted to keep it that way if at all possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

“Bucky? What are you- what are you doing?” Darcy said sleepily, eyes only half focusing on the figure lurking in the shadows of her bedroom. The moonlight glinted off his metal arm, exposed by his sleeveless shirt. His dark hair hung around his face but she could still see the blue of his eyes and they gazed at her silently. 

“Buck?” She said, hoping that whatever he wanted could be resolved without her having to wake up properly. She was still half asleep, limbs still relaxed and floppy, and she wanted to keep it that way if at all possible. 

“Bad… Dream.” The words rumbled out of him, deep and low, almost as though he hadn’t said them at all. His head hung towards his chest, eyes dropping from Darcy and fists clenching at his sides. Darcy could see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and dripping from his cheekbones. His chest rose and fell in an irregular pattern, and she could sense that he was seconds away from a full- fledged paper-bag panic attack. Probably a regular person without the Winter Soldier’s intense grip on his emotions would already be there. 

“Where’s Steve?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light as she did so, and guessing already that wherever the Captain was, it wasn’t currently the Avengers tower. 

“Out.” Bucky choked, and Darcy assumed that out meant some kind of mission. The super-secret kind that drew him away in the middle of the night without any fanfare, and she shivered briefly, sending a quick prayer to any passing deity that cared to listen that the big blond lug was okay, wherever he happened to be. 

“Okay,” she mumbled, still grasping onto the last vestiges of sleep. “Get in.” Bucky’s head came up and he threw her a wild look. “Mean it.” She grumbled at him, and pulled back the covers as she spoke, patting the space beside her. Bucky hesitated for the world’s shortest minute, then rolled his body gracefully in next to her. The bed squeaked and groaned under the unexpected additional weight, and Darcy hoped that there was no one in the room directly below her. She didn’t need to have to explain away an ex-assassin in her bed gone midnight, no matter how close they’d become over the previous months. 

He lay next to her, limbs stiff and tight against his sides. Darcy sighed and rolled towards him, slipping an arm gently across his chest and hugging him to her. She felt him inhale sharply as she touched him, and waited for him to relax. He was fairly tactile with her, usually, but she’d not seen him so soon after a nightmare. Steve usually handled this side of Bucky, and Darcy didn’t really know what he did to help Bucky through it. 

After a time, she felt his chest open and his warm breath on his exhale moved the hair that had fallen across her face as she’d moved closer to him. Darcy could feel him start to unwind, could feel the tight coils of muscles which had been wound close begin to unspool. 

She placed the flat of her palm against his chest, and felt his heart thump against her hand. His body was running hot, but then again it always did. So did Steve’s, from what she could feel whenever they squished together on the couch for movie night. Jane thought it was some side effect of the super-serum; the same hyper-fast metabolism that burned up all their calories and made it near impossible for them to catch a buzz from alcohol, burned so quick that it kept them permanently running at a higher temperature than most other people. 

She squealed in surprise as another warm shape jumped up onto the bed and wiggled between them. 

“Pizza dog.” Bucky huffed in a low voice, and Darcy could hear the pleasure in it as he spoke, despite the continuing quickened beat of his heart and the sweat she could still see glistening on his brow, and couldn’t find it in her heart to shove the dog off the bed. 

95lbs of panting, wriggling, bad-breathed Labrador forced its way up the middle of the bed and finally, after much prevarication and movement, flopped onto its back between Darcy and Bucky, all four paws in the air. Darcy had to snatch her arm back quickly before Lucky plopped down, knowing full well that the dog cared nothing for other peoples’ personal space. 

“Umpf,” she mumbled, pulling the covers up to her face and rolling over away from the dog, who panted happily in her direction, tongue spilling from his mouth as he considered licking Darcy’s bare shoulder to let her know how truly grateful he was to be sharing a bed with her. 

Bucky, thoughts of darkened rooms, men with guns, and an unshakeable biting cold deep in his bones starting to recede, flopped onto his side and drew an arm up over the dog, metals fingers grazing against Darcy’s side as he did so. She sighed at the contact, and his fingers twitched unconsciously, flexing against the flesh of her middle, exposed by her pyjama top which had ridden up. 

Darcy threaded her fingers into his, squeezing lightly against the tips of his cool fingers, trying to breathe reassurance into the man beside her. Lucky panted and his tail thumped wildly from side to side, alternately hitting Bucky’s thigh and then Darcy’s as it moved. His paws twitched, still suspended in the air as the dog wriggled further into the mattress, his head resting on half of Bucky’s pillow. 

She feels rather than hears Bucky’s breathing return to something like normal, or as normal as super-enhanced was going to get. She can feel him begin to relax, as he loosens his muscles and his weight falls into the mattress and it protests against the extra load it didn’t know it had to bear. His fingers fall from hers slightly, but still the tips graze against her and she strokes them softly with her own until sleep threatens to take her again. 

With a yawn, she succumbs, arm still pulled back and holding onto Bucky with the barest touch, his arm slung thoughtlessly over a very happy Labrador. Darcy pushes away the thought that she’s going to have to change the bedding and get it washed thoroughly in the morning, to even attempt to get rid of long yellow hairs and possibly even slobber on the pillows. 

For now, at least, they’re all safe. Warm. The closest to happy that Bucky is likely to get, for now. It’s something.


End file.
